


Memories Left

by Forestfire34720



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate POV, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dark Harry, Extension of an AU of an AU, Gen, Inspired by “Nothing Left” by authoresswithoutwords, Sad Ending, Sad Harry, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forestfire34720/pseuds/Forestfire34720
Summary: “He may have shown the Wizarding World how wrong they were to see him as a hero. But for all he’s done, everyone he’s killed, Harry has always been Arville and Rowan’s hero.“My interpretation of the final scene in “Nothing Left” by authoresswithoutwords, from Arville and Rowan’s point of view. It will not make sense without reading that first.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	Memories Left

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nothing Left](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511298) by [authoresswithoutwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoresswithoutwords/pseuds/authoresswithoutwords). 



They find him standing on a hill. Wand dangling at his side. Wind a warm breeze. Sun low on the horizon. It would almost be peaceful.

If not for the task set before them. If not for the knowledge of what he has done. If not for the blood staining his robes. If not for the burning farmhouse below them. If not for the countless bodies left in his wake. If not for the empty desolation in his eyes.

It would almost be peaceful, but peace has not existed for a long time.

Arville and Rowan approach carefully. Neither believes Harry will harm them. Neither used to believe him capable of the destruction he's wrought in the past years.

It had devastated them to hear of what had become of him. Even his godson had not been enough to save him. His name has become feared, hated, throughout the country. Once, they know, he had had another by his side, lost too in grief and agony, caring only for revenge. The other is gone now, his body found shortly after the destruction of the Ministry.

The public demands his head and clamors for justice. Dozens, hundreds, answer the call. Their rage burns hot in their veins and they seek only retribution for the uncountable lives claimed. Many perish in the hunt, and the lust for vengeance only grow for the rest.

So Arville and Rowan swear to themselves to find him, to be the ones to put him down. They swear to end it themselves because they know they are the only ones who will do it with the compassion he has always shown them.

And now here they are, ten long years after they had first met him, three figures alone on a hill under a sorrowful sunset.

He finally turns to face them when they are only a few feet away. The sight of his familiar face makes them falter. Arville's wand wavers and Rowan swallows thickly. His hair is longer and scruffier, his face shadowed, his expression bleak. But they still see the young man they used to know, and it brings them back to past times.

Times when he would step in between them and those with power and cruelty in using it.

Times when he would kneel before them and smile gently and heal their injuries with a wave of his wand.

Times when he would sit in a chair or on the desk or simply on the floor, and they and other students would talk for countless hours.

Times when his shoulders were heavy but his green eyes were calm and fond and protective.

Times when he gave his all for them and they did the same.

Times when they knew that, no matter what, he would be there for them.

To kill their loyal teacher is unfathomable. But Arville looks at the desolation in his eyes and Rowan takes in the emptiness of his gaze, and they understand. He may walk, he may breathe, but he is no more alive than the dead he has left in his trail. His soulmate's death has carved out his heart and turned him into a hollow shell, and what little might have been left has long since been stolen by his tragic quest and all-consuming grief. His spark is gone.

They are not killing him; they are laying his body to rest and letting his soul move on. It is a mercy, the only one they can offer this broken man. The cruelest mercy, and the kindest.

He does not try to fight or flee. He just waits. He has nothing else left to do.

Their eyes sting. Rowan places a hand on Arville's shoulder, and they share in their quiet mourning. Then Arville exhales and sets her jaw. Rowan straightens his shoulders. They're prepared to cast the spell. But when they lift their wands to deliver him to his final sleep, they hesitate.

A memory of his patient smile flashes through their minds. The gentleness and understanding he offered them. The love and devotion they gave in return.

He may have shown the Wizarding World how wrong they were to see him as a hero. But for all he's done, everyone he's killed, Harry has always been Arville and Rowan's hero.

And now he stands there with a hollow heart and looks at them with a hollow gaze and speaks with a hollow voice and offers only a hollow plea.

"Please, please. Please let me see him again."

They silently lock eyes, brimming with tears, and nod in silent agreement. They have always been together since the very beginning; and now, they will bear this horrible burden together.

They look back at him. In their solemn eyes is a steadfast promise to remember; for memories are all they have left of their beloved teacher.

As one, Arville and Rowan raise their wands. Two words escape their lips, little more than whispers. Whispers that carry all their grief and pain and regret and love.

And thus, the words that created Harry grant him the closest thing they can to a happy life.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t typically support the ship in the series this is from, but the last section of “Nothing Left” was really emotionally powerful to me, and I got inspired.
> 
> Posted with authoresswithoutword’s permission.
> 
> Thoughts? Questions?


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